The officer in attendance turned to a book containing a list of the unhappy persons who had found a home within these walls.
“Yes,” he said, reading the entry; “Jacob Wynne, arrested on a charge of forgery. He was brought here only yesterday.”
“May I see him?” Margaret asked, eagerly.
“It is hardly possible. The hour at which visitors are admitted has not arrived. You must wait till ten o’clock.”
“I have been waiting all night,” said Margaret.
“All night. Where?”
“In the street.”
There was something in her tone that struck the officer. He regarded her compassionately.
“You will make an exception in my favor? I am his wife.”
“I do not know,” he hesitated. “I may be exceeding my authority.” But the sharp anxiety in Margaret’s face decided him. “I will do it once, as a special favor.”